


Like a lover

by Zombieheroine



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Cunnilingus, Emotional Baggage, Enemy Lovers, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 17:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13058622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombieheroine/pseuds/Zombieheroine
Summary: I was prompted on Tumblr: "Can I request Optimus giving Megatron cunnilingus and Megatron just melting into it?" by adilia-the-kouhai.Optimus and Megatron try to learn gentle things.(This is set in the verse of "Soft Things" and "A threat to my spark" where Autobots and Decepticons have allied against Quintessons, but can be read as stand-alone just as well.)





	Like a lover

**Author's Note:**

> This is exactly what the prompt said, but for me PWP stands for "porn with plot". 
> 
> I was super happy to get this prompt since it specified the type of oral sex wanted. The best kind.

A warship drifted lazily in space, anchored in the orbit of an uninhibited planet, far behind the battle lines. It had had a name and a shield once, but no one cared to remember whether it had been an Autobot shield or a Decepticon one. 

It was mostly dark and run in low power to avoid being detected by rogue enemy probes, and mostly it served as a support station, a mobile mini space station positioned between larger bases and the battle lines. It was fully equipped for a battle if needed, but several decks had been renovated into hospital space and weapons maintenance shops.

Deep within the belly of the ship were the regular cabins, all very small and ascetic, but every single on of them had a good berth so no one complained. 

Megatron still had remains of organic fluids on his armour when he made his way to his quarters after boarding the neutral ship. He couldn’t be bothered to wipe himself down properly of the evidence of the battle, even if the cooled and chunky organic fluid felt disgusting on him. 

He dismissed his troops with minimal words and headed towards his quarters, barely thinking about it as his pedes took him down the familiar corridors. The battle fury was fading and slowly replaced with soreness in his joints and hydraulics, making his own limbs weigh him down. This was one of those solars when the rage and heat didn’t become pleasant ache and serenity but rather left him feeling cold and dirty and in a bad mood. He wanted nothing more than to collapse on his berth and power down for a while, hoping to wake up reset and at least slightly better mood. 

However, his wishes were not granted to him because when he finally got to his cabin and opened the door, he found that his berth was already occupied. 

Megatron gave Optimus a tired glare and a huff before closing the door behind him. “I don’t have the time or the energy to play games now,” he grunted. 

Optimus was sitting on the edge of the berth with one leg over his knee and clearly waiting for him, but Megatron’s decline didn’t seem to affect him in any way. “That’s alright.” 

Megatron stood still for a moment expecting Optimus to get up and leave, but the other didn’t move an inch. Megatron glared again. “Then what are you waiting for? Get out.” 

Optimus wasn’t quite smiling, but there was that soft kindness in his optics that sometimes lingered even when his features were otherwise stern. It made Megatron restless. That expression didn’t belong in their berthrooms. 

“I noticed you seemed to be a bit out of sorts when you arrived in the hangar,” Optimus said. “Don’t worry, I doubt anyone else can spot that about you, but I thought I’d pay you a visit anyway.”

“Well now you have. Get out,” Megatron replied.

Neither one of them moved. Optimus stayed on the berth and Megatron by the door. They stared at each other as if they could will the other to budge. 

“I’d like to stay, if that’s alright with you,” Optimus said. 

“It is not,” Megatron growled. “I told you, I’m not in the mood for a wrestle in the sheets with you, so you might as well leave -” 

“I’m not here for that,” Optimus interjected before Megatron had the chance to argue more. “I just want to stay. You can power down if that’s what you want.”

The offer was a surprising one, and completely new. Megatron didn’t like it, he didn’t know what it held, and right now he didn’t have the processor power to deduct that, but Optimus just kept that kind stare fixed on him and patted the berth next to him, and Megatron decided he didn’t care. 

With a groan and a roll of his optics Megatron finally moved further into the small cabin and to his berth, all but collapsing on the firm mattress with an exhausted sigh. He lay on his front for a moment just feeling his hydraulics release tension with a low hissing sound and his engine finally lowering its rounds. He ignored Optimus completely and rolled on to his back, letting out another long sigh and allowing his optics to dim and eventually offline. 

Distantly he was aware that Optimus was still there, and after a moment he lay down next to him. The heat and the EM field from his frame came over Megatron like a blanket, but instead of suffocating it was almost comforting. 

“It was a dirty battle,” Megatron muttered. He had meant to power down, but somehow Optimus made him feel chatty today. “They have the numbers, and they just keep on coming no matter how much you shoot. Eventually they make it through.” 

Next to him Optimus hummed in understanding, his helm crest brushing Megatron’s shoulder-guard. “Battles like that tire you,” he noted.

Megatron made an agreeing noise. “There’s no glory in them. That ship was like a slaughter pit at the end of it, all of us knee-deep in fleshy corpses.” 

Optimus was closer again but Megatron couldn’t tell when he had moved. The other was pressed against his side, molding himself into every curve like he was made for it, uncaring of the blood stains, his warmth seeping to him. Megatron shifted too, but not away but towards. It felt natural with his optics offline.

“The defense held. That’s the most important thing. You can rest easy,” Optimus said against his shoulder. 

“Yes,” Megatron agreed with ease. 

They lay in silence for a while, pressed together comfortably with odd intimacy usually accomplished only after a long hard go at each other, maybe after some energon drawn or at least with several dents. 

In that relaxed silence Optimus moved. He didn’t quite sit up but pushed himself halfway up, and with that same unusual ease that had allowed him to press against the other mech’s side he lay down on his chassis. Megatron felt Optimus’ chin against the middle of his chassis with his arms folded around his helm, but didn’t dare to online his optics to look. He reached up with his servo and lay it on Optimus’ arm. 

“Told you. I’m not up for a fight,” he muttered. 

Optimus shrugged, the gesture evident through touch. “I don’t want to fight. But I could… Well.” 

Megatron frowned. It was uncharacteristic for Optimus to fall silent in the middle of speaking his mind. He let his claws gently scratch the plating of his arm. 

Optimus gathered his wits soon enough. “I want… I could just pleasure you. I could be gentle, if you’d like.” As if to punctuate his words he turned his chin and pressed his faceplate against Megatron’s chassis instead, kissing him there. 

It sent a shiver down Megatron’s spinal strut. They didn’t kiss, anything, ever. The cabin was so silent he heard the little wet sound when the kiss ended. 

“Do as you please,” Megatron muttered. The place on his chassis where the kiss had been laid felt like a spot after a small lightning strike. 

Optimus’s engine hummed, a deep affectionate noise under his thick armour, and he languidly pushed himself on top of the other. His weight was considerable but not unpleasant, feeling no different than his EM field or warmth did, just with extra pressure that pushed Megatron deeper into the mattress. Everything felt suddenly very soft. 

Then Optimus kissed his chassis again, and Megatron let out a small breath. Optimus kissed him again, and he raised his servos to his shoulders. Optimus kissed him once more, and then more, and more after that, slowly trailing a path down his frame, his lipplates soft and lingering and his servos lazily caressing. 

Megatron shifted under him to better accommodate him. He tilted his hips a bit and let his legs fall open to let Optimus nestle between them comfortably, and when Optimus finally reached low enough to grasp his hips he felt warm and slightly wound up as if the energy running through him was trying to bleed into Optimus through every point they were in contact. 

Megatron didn’t even notice when his interface panel was pushed out of the way, but he did notice when Optimus pressed his intake against his valve. 

All Megatron could do was to take a deep invent and shudder. 

Optimus’ intake was wet and heated against him, and his kisses were slow and soft. He pressed his face against the valve and opened his intake, moving his lipplates against the valve lips and letting his glossa press between them, flat and firm and dragging against the mesh. Just like he had promised he was gentle, and now there was a different kind of force behind his movements than ever before. He pressed close with strength and intention, but his movements were slow and calculated, like he was committed to being thorough. 

Megatron couldn’t think too much about it. His processor felt hazy with all the softness and heat around him, and the faint buzz of pleasure was slowly building up into a proper current, flowing and spreading. 

Optimus pressed his open intake against the valve and let his glossa lick between the folds, teasing against the slit and pressing inside just a little bit before slipping away. Optimus moved upwards, lips caressing and humid air puffing from between them against the sensitive mesh before closing around the anterior node. His glossa tickled the nub while he suckled on it, his lipplates a firm seal around it, and Megatron felt a moan rumbling from his vocalizer. 

He thought how Optimus was tasting him. He listened to the wet sounds coming from between his thighs, faint lapping noise and wet suckling, and felt himself coaxed and charmed by the deep kisses. His cooling systems demanded more air, and Megatron took long deep gulps of it, panting as he shuddered and rocked in the rhythm of the current. 

He felt pleasure sloshing deep within him, running through him like liquid and electricity in one form. It was pooling inside him, drowning out everything else. 

Optimus hummed against him, his servos holding him gently yet tightly and keeping his rocking hips in fluid motion. He tried to push closer still, and it occurred to Megatron that he too wanted him to come closer even though it was impossible. Optimus had his arms looped under his thighs with his servos on his hips and his face firmly pressed against his valve, and Megatron pressed his pedes against the other mech’s hips as if he could pull him closer like that. 

Megatron let his helm fall back and his hips move with purpose. He felt like he was drowning but in the best possible way, hot all over and pried open with great care. His invents were deep, and they turned into low moans when he exvented. He didn’t know at which point he had pushed both of his servos between his thighs and cradled them around Optimus’ helm, and he didn’t care. 

He felt the current sloshing, foaming, and then overflowing.


End file.
